Refuge
by Photophobic
Summary: Kyoya couldn’t take anymore. So he hid with the one person he knew wouldn’t turn him over…Nekozawa. FRIENDSHIP fic!
1. Arrival

**Do not own Ouran High School Host Club. Nope.**

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Tamaki was in a panic. Now, putting him in such a state was not very difficult. In fact, it was incredibly easy. This time, however, it was not for his "daughter," Haruhi. It was for his first friend since coming to Japan as well as vice president of the Host Club: Kyoya Ootori.

"Ah, where is he?!" Tamaki screamed, pacing frantically with a cell-phone to his ear. "He's been gone for three days and no one is picking up the phone at his house!" No one paid him any heed. They just figured he was blowing it out of proportion. That was only proven when he started rambling on about kidnapping plots and ransom money.

Haruhi sighed. "Tamaki-senpai, it's Kyoya-senpai we're talking about. I'm sure he's fine."

No one was worried.

But they should have been.

While Kyoya was not in any severe danger, his circumstances were less than favorable. The night before Kyoya went "missing," he had arrived home late and slept straight through dinner. When the maid tried to wake him, he scared her so badly that she nearly quit. He finally got up a few hours later, although less than well-rested. His father and older brothers were still crowded around the table.

"Kyoya," his father reprimanded, "_growling_ at the maid is not the proper behavior from a future business leader. Nor is your lack of ability to schedule yourself properly."

"Shouldn't you worry more about the two heirs to your company and less about the third son?" Kyoya retorted, still grumpy. His father stood up, drawing closer, and smacked him. The older brothers tried hard not to wince. It did wake Kyoya up, though.

"A gentleman should show more respect."

The teen took a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm. He wasn't ready in time for the next onslaught.

"If this _club_ of yours is taking away from your manners and duties, I will find a way to remove you from it. Care to prove it a worthy usage of your time and efforts? Or should I contact the school chairman immediately?"

The sound of Kyoya's gritting teeth must have been heard from miles away. "Yes, sir." With that, the boy stormed out and up the stairs that led to his room. Without thinking, he tugged out a small emergency backpack and pulled a few things from his drawers (_without_ everything else pouring out, mind you). Looking in the mirror, he could still see the shape of the hand. It was imprinted in red onto his pale skin. There also seemed to be a small scratch traced with blood, which must have been due to a fingernail. Rolling up his sleeve, he noticed the bruises from two days ago had taken on a nasty coloring. He waited until a little after ten o'clock before sneaking out of the mansion, an escapade he had planned many times as a small child and modified as the years passed until it was absolutely flawless.

That said, he was out on the street by 10:21.

It may seem like he was running away, but he knew he'd return home after a week or so. For now, he just wanted to get away from the physical harm and the stress that was beginning to negatively affect his health. Besides, he did not want to attend school looking like this. He cared not to hear the rumors that would spawn off of it, most involving how his father had beaten him again.

Outside of the Host Club, Kyoya didn't really have any friends. He had people whose businesses would be crucial to his own developing career, but no real _friends_. He could not stay at any of the host's houses, though. It was too predictable and they would be the first places searched. Plus, the parents would report him right away. Yet, there was one person his father did not know he was still acquainted with, as that family's area of business held no importance to the Ootori company and therefore his father had told him he would not need to befriend the heir.

They met back in elementary school. Kyoya always stayed in and studied and the other did not care to go outside. They made quiet companions. Neither really cared to get to know the other very well, but they had come to a mutual understanding. That stood up until today. They met in school, but neither directly bothered the other.

Kyoya wondered if he would even receive help from the other. There was no debt to be repaid and no reason to receive him. Yet, Kyoya had a suspicion that the other would take him in. Back in elementary, during those monotonous recess times, the one he shared the room with would occasionally look up at him. Once, Kyoya had noticed the odd way his bruises were examined by the hidden eyes. By now, the person behind those eyes had probably found out _why_ the bruises were there. He just hoped the person would understand now like he seemed to have back then.

As Kyoya drew closer, he vaguely wondered where the rain was. Usually, when things like this happened, wasn't it supposed to rain? He knew it was illogical, but it seemed to happen to the rest of the Host Club often enough. It was probably a good thing, though. He must have already looked pretty pitiful, there was no need for being drenched to add to that.

The large, dark building loomed up ahead. He took one last deep breath to steel himself before approaching it. The path to the front door was long, but seemed to go by quickly with his anticipation. He took the heavy knocker in his hand and was about to bang on the ornate door when it swung open.

"Kyoya Ootori?" a familiar voice asked. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

The figure leaned nonchalantly in the doorframe, examining his visitor with a curious air.

"Nekozawa-senpai, I am sorry to have come so unexpectedly, but…"

"Could it be that the all-might Kyoya is asking for my help?" Nekozawa teased.

"Yes," Kyoya replied, "I am."

Nekozawa leaned over a bit to catch a better glimpse of the underclassman's face, now seeing the marks that marred it. The older boy stood straight, leaving the doorway clear. "Come in, but wash the blood off your face first."

Kyoya reached a hand up to his face, feeling the red liquid that he hadn't noticed leaking. "Thank you, Nekozawa-senpai."

Nekozawa led his visitor through the dark halls with a candelabra, coming to a stop outside a dimly lit bathroom. Kyoya thankfully moved to the sink to wash his face off.

"It was your father, right?" Nekozawa questioned in what may have been sympathy, but could have easily been curiosity.

"Yes." The response was brisk.

"How long do you think you will need to stay for?"

"Maybe a week."

"Is staying with the hosts too risky?"

Kyoya paused for a second, his hands hovering half-way to his face, and spoke the truth.

"You're the only one who won't turn me over."

Nekozawa chuckled darkly. "Kyoya Ootori, we may not be friends, but I'm glad that you can find refuge with me."

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**The End.**


	2. Adjustments

**Disclaimer: [Insert witty remark about not owning Ouran High School Holst Club here]**

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After the upperclassman had showed Kyoya to a spare bedroom, he went to alert Kuretake and Kadomatsu about the visitor. It was decided that Kyoya would have to avoid school for the time being. It would be no use hiding if he just appeared there the next day.

Nekozawa sighed as he walked down the corridor to his bedroom. He passed by the window he had seen Kyoya through earlier. He could still see the ghost of his figure there, traveling over the path with his head bent toward the ground and backpack weighing him down. It was then that Nekozawa had known something was wrong. Since the very first moment Umehito Nekozawa had met Kyoya Ootori, he had carried himself strongly, always confident and knowing. He was the man who could rule the world if he wanted to. That's how Nekozawa had seen him since elementary. Nekozawa, even having been a year older than Kyoya, remembered sitting in his corner of the room they shared, playing with Beelzenef, while Kyoya studied hard, making it appear that _he_ was the elder. Nekozawa remembered his face, too. Sharp and cold in a way that did not fit someone so young.

Then the cuts and bruises had started appearing. They looked so fitting of him, complementing the stoic look perfectly. That may have been the saddest part. But Kyoya never cried about it. He just took it with a straight face and refused to whine.

So, when he saw that same boy in such an uncharacteristic state, coming to _his _door, he immediately rushed down the stairs to answer the door. He made sure to open it before Kyoya knocked, lest he wake the sleeping Kirimi.

He did not see Kyoya as a friend, really. They were acquaintances who had kept on neutral terms. But Nekozawa was not the kind of heartless creature who would turn down a plea for help, especially when he knew how hard it must have been to make. After all, Kyoya did not have much experience with asking for help. That much he knew for sure.

Nekozawa pulled his cloak off from over his sleep wear, yanking off the dark wig in the process. True, it was nighttime and he did not need it, but he had simply forgotten to take it off earlier. He flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, blond hair splaying all over his pillow.

Even creatures of the night needed to rest sometime.

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It took Kyoya a few moments to figure out where he was the next morning. Once he got over his disorientation, he remembered that he was in Nekozawa's house. Getting up, he noticed that he was still in his day clothes, which he had been wearing since yesterday afternoon. Very unsanitary. The first thing he did was change into something cleaner. At first, his eyes searched for the familiar light blue of his school uniform before recalling, once more, that he was _hiding_ at Nekozawa's house and would not be going to school today.

He glanced at his watch. It was late in the morning. Nekozawa would have already left for school. Come to think of it, Kirimi would be at her pre-school as well, which meant that, other than the housekeepers, he was probably alone.

Entering the adjoining bathroom, he studied his face in the mirror. The scratch was still there, but the redness had faded away. Sadly, the finger-shaped bruises on his arm were as prominent as ever. He'd have to make sure no one saw those. Other than that, the damage would be nearly unrecognizable.

He was wondering what he should do when a knock sounded at the door.

"Master Kyoya, are you awake?"

The boy wandered over to the door and opened it. Kuretake stood there in her abnormal maid's outfit, hands folded. He nodded to her.

"Would you like to come down for breakfast?" she asked politely.

He was about to reply that he was not hungry, but then suddenly found that he was starving. "Yes, thank you."

He stepped out of the room and followed her. She talked as she walked.

"Are you friends with Master Umehito?" she wondered.

"No, not really."

"But enough so that you'd run to here?"

"It was the only place I could think of."

These personal questions were really irritating him, but these were the people he had imposed himself upon and were taking care of him, so the least he could do was struggle through this.

They arrived at the dining room and she left for a second to go fetch some food. She was back with the meal rather quickly and continued the interrogation.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you run in the first place?"

Ah, so Nekozawa hadn't told her that. Maybe he was even more reliable than Kyoya gave him credit for. He made a mental note that he'd definitely owe a few favors to Nekozawa later on.

He warred with himself between staying silent or actually answering. But, again, they _were_ housing him…

"Trouble at home," he replied vaguely.

A look flashed across her face and Kyoya knew she had probably found meaning in that scratch and was now looking for any other signs that might prove her theory right. He would make an even stronger effort to hide the bruises. It didn't help that he was skinny and pale, either. It most likely made him look more like an abused child.

The questions stopped after that. Kyoya was thankful. He didn't even see her again until Nekozawa returned home.

The dark-cloaked figure trudged through the doorway, sighing with relief to be home. Kuretake came to greet him.

"Good afternoon, Master Umehito. May I take you bag?"

"Thank you, Kuretake," he replied, handing her the item. She was about to leave when he stopped her. "Wait…how is our visitor doing?"

"I haven't seen him since this morning," she replied honestly. "But he seemed well enough then."

Nekozawa nodded and headed upstairs, following the hallways until he came to a guest room door. The door of the room Kyoya was staying in. He knocked.

"Come in!" Kyoya called.

Kyoya looked upward toward Nekozawa as he entered. The younger boy held his infamous little black book in his hands.

"Hello, Nekozawa-senpai."

Said boy hovered by the door as if there was a force field blocking him from entering. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you." Kyoya was definitely not used to saying "thank you" so much. Not many people did things for him that they weren't required to do, so he hadn't needed to.

"Suoh has already started panicking, you know."

Kyoya couldn't hold back a smirk. "That's to be expected."

"Should you have told them what was going on?"

"It's better to leave them in the dark."

Nekozawa shook his head at this. People may call himself a king of darkness and shadows, but Kyoya was more of a shadow king than he could ever be.

"I make no guarantees if they bother the Black Magic Club," he announced.

"I'll be back before it gets bad enough that Tamaki would even think to bother you."

"I'll take your word for it."

It was then that Kuretake returned, holding a tray with tea cups on it. Nekozawa took one, smiling while he thanked her. It was a sincere smile, Kyoya noted, not the one he gave to the rest of the school to scare them.

The maid moved to offer a cup to Kyoya as well, but her foot caught on some of the clothes that had spilled out of Kyoya's backpack. She tripped, but caught herself just in time so that she was not flung forward. Sadly, the same could not be said for the tea.

The porcelain cup went flying and crashed into Kyoya, spilling its contents all over him. He hissed inwardly. The tea was hot! Kuretake's face reddened.

"Ah, I a-apologize, Master Kyoya!" she stammered out. In all her years as a maid, she had only once messed up and that was only _breaking_ the tea cup after having dropped it on the floor. She had never dropped tea _on_ someone before. And on a visitor, too! Oh, she felt like such a klutz!

She waited for the outburst, but was met with the sight of Kyoya simply taking a deep breath and standing up. He picked the cup up from off of the floor and placed it on the bedside table. Then, he proceeded to silently collect a new shirt from his bag and make an exit to the bathroom. He rejoined them a few moments later, clean, with a new shirt on while the stained one was slung over his arm.

"M-May I take that for you?" Kuretake stuttered.

"Yes, thank you," he said in a level tone, handing the article to the maid. She vanished in an instant, fearing for the moment that he would snap. The tension was already too great for her to handle.

Nekozawa quirked an eyebrow, not that it could be seen. He noticed Kyoya trying to tug down the short sleeve of his right arm, but failing. He should have packed shirts with longer sleeves. Thankfully, the upperclassman made no comment on the bruises that were showing. Yes, he had definitely seen them, but either didn't care or didn't want to make a fuss.

Coming to Nekozawa's had been a good choice.

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**I got a few requests for this to be continued and...well...I was bored. So I got this.**


	3. Routine

**Disclaimer: No.**

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Three days passed, each very similar to the first. The only difference was when Kirimi saw him. It went something like this:

"_Yay, glasses character!" the blonde girl cried, running up to tackle-hug him. Nekozawa caught her mid-flight, much to her chagrin._

"_Kirimi, let's not harass our guests, shall we?" he suggested in his new "older brother" tone._

_She nodded. "Okay!" She seemed to forget that in the span of three seconds, for soon after, she was jumping up and down, pleading with Kyoya to read to her. Eventually, Nekozawa got her to calm down. However, getting her to call Kyoya by his name and not "glasses character" was an entirely different matter._

Currently, they had their own arrangement worked out. Nekozawa and Kirimi would wake up and get ready for school, Kyoya would get up and spend most of his day in his room or the library, making sure to check the newspaper sometime during that time frame (although he had as of yet to see any note of his sudden absence). Then Nekozawa would come home, they'd drink tea while the upperclassman reported the school happenings and recent antics of the Host Club (which he only kept up with because he could _hear_ them through the magical adjoining door). Dinner would be eaten by the three youngest members of the mansion in the smaller dining room, where they'd all eat together. It was mostly quiet except for when Nekozawa had to reprimand Kirimi for getting food all over her face with her messy eating and then having to help her get it off. Kyoya wasn't a sentimental person, but he did admit that it was nice to see the long-separated siblings close to each other at last, even if it was more than a bit awkward.

The Nekozawa parents came home around seven. Kyoya was surprised to find that they were pretty average people. The father looked the most like his children, blonde hair and blue eyes. The mother was the oddball of the family with her brown hair and brown eyes. Yet both were wearing dark suits. Kirimi, like any other three-year-old, jumped up to hug them both. Nekozawa's greeting was always much simpler. When Kyoya was introduced to them, after Nekozawa having told them of his stay over the phone, they gave him very friendly welcomes. This seemed foreign to Kyoya, as the only people he was greeted by like this were his sister, Tamaki, and occasionally members of the Host Club/clients (of which he had few and were too busy fawning to really call it a greeting). He had never been greeted like that by his own parents.

He subconsciously decided that, cursed or not, Nekozawa was one lucky guy.

Kyoya had the decency to leave while the family talked to each other about their day and such. He made sure to make it as discreet as possible. It didn't seem to work as, soon after, he heard Nekozawa say quietly, "Let him leave, Kirimi." But that was the end of that.

They would then spend the rest of their night doing whatever before heading off to bed. At night, Kyoya often heard Nekozawa creeping through the hallways, although he was unsure of the reason. The only reason he knew it was the third-year was because, out of curiosity and slight irritation, he peeked out the door to see who it was and what they were doing. All he saw was Nekozawa, without the cloak and wig, wandering around. Just the fact that it was the upperclassman was enough for Kyoya to let it rest without much suspicion. Other than that, the nights were quiet as well.

So, it was on this third day that Nekozawa came to Kyoya's room and leaned on the door frame, looking ready to complain. Of Tamaki, Kyoya had guessed correctly.

"That idiot has been screaming nonstop," Nekozawa reported. "If I must beg anything of you, it is that you at least inform him about your whereabouts so that my club may enjoy _some_ semblance of quiet."

"If I told him," Kyoya retorted, eyes still glued to his notebook, "he would panic even more and quite possibly round up the Host Club in an attempt at a 'rescue mission.' I doubt you want him charging over here."

Nekozawa's frown deepened. "Did you plan that as well?"

"Hmm?"

"As a means to keep me from telling."

Kyoya looked up and fixed his glasses. "No. I knew from the start that you wouldn't say anything."

The older boy stood from his position and took a step into the room. "How?"

Kyoya let his eyes wander back toward his little black book, evading Nekozawa's intent icy-blue stare.

"It would not fit your character."

Nekozawa tried not to smirk in amusement. "You think you know my character?"

"An approximate profile, yes."

"And what, may I ask, is my character?" He smile was filled with much more hilarity now. Kyoya could be cold-hearted, but he was far from amusing.

"At school and in front of peers, you are teasing and known to be more than a little cruel with your jokes. You enjoy scaring anyone outside of the Black Magic Club and occasionally those within the club. You don't outwardly care about what people say about you, but still try to hide from populated areas, giving the impression that inwardly you feel otherwise. This has encouraged some form of antisocial behavior. When not acting out for those at school, though, you are much more docile and tend to stray from the typical antics used to scare fellow students, choosing instead a slightly more open and solemn demeanor. When put into certain situations, you can get quite emotional and have a tendency to show it through your voice and actions. However, this side is rarely seen and more so reserved for those you trust. You can also be very noble and loyal to those select few. Otherwise, you are typically wary of your surroundings and those around you as a possible form of self-preservation. Satisfied?"

The fact that Kyoya's eyes had not once left his notebook prevented him from seeing the disbelieving look on Nekozawa's face. It took a long moment for the upperclassman to recover.

"And people say that _I'm_ the creepy one. At least I don't sound like a stalker."

Kyoya tilted his head up a bit at that. "Hm, that may be true. It is my job as the third son of the Ootori family to gain as much knowledge about my peers as possible so as to further the company's connections in the future."

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**No annoying comments today. Although, that probably _could_ be considered an annoying comment in itself...**

Nekozawa was silent for a second, taking it all in. Finally, he asked, "Why?"

"Because I'm of no use to my family any other way."


	4. Reasons

**Disclaimer: ...I give up. Read the first few chapters if you want one. I'm too lazy.**

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"_Because I'm of no use to my family any other way."_

Nekozawa blinked. Kyoya didn't even seem remotely perturbed by this. For a moment, they were locked in an intense staring contest. Finally, Kyoya chuckled.

"This is not something new, Nekozawa-senpai." He looked down, back to his book.

No notice was given when Nekozawa took a silent step closer. He studied the host's face, trying to find any hint of remorse or self-pity in his expression. He found none. Did this honestly not bother him?

For awhile, it was silent. Then, Kyoya sighed. "Not to be disrespectful, but if you have nothing more to say, could you stop standing there and staring?"

Nekozawa straightened up, not having noticed that he was a mere few feet from the underclassman's face. "Of course. See you at dinner." He exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. He stood there for a second, leaning against the door with his eyes closed and ears open. No sound.

There was a tugging sensation on his cloak. He looked down to find Kirimi with her tiny hand clutching the fabric and wide blue eyes staring up with curiosity and worry. He gave her a faint smile.

"Is glasses character alright?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He took the little hand in his larger one and guided her away. "Yes, Kyoya is fine."

"Is Big Brother alright?"

He added more effort to his smile. "Yes, I'm fine, too."

She lifted up her other hand and he chuckled inwardly. Reaching down, he picked her up under the arms and lifted her from the ground. She leaned into him. Now that she found her brother, she was going to love him as much as any little sister could.

Kyoya listened to the nearly silent footsteps as they left. A frown worked its way onto his face. A finger lifted to push up his glasses, but paused and instead removed them from his face, placing them on the bedside table. He closed his notebook, tossing it aside and flopped backwards in a very un-Kyoya way.

The boy rubbed his eyes and forehead tiredly, blocking out the light of the room. _What am I doing?_ He thought. _Father will just punish me more harshly once I return. How can I expect to earn any form of respect from him if I run away like that?_ His frown deepened and he let his arms lay limp beside him. _I'm such a coward. What I did was so _reckless._ Don't I usually pride myself on being logical? Aren't I supposed to be the one in school who always thinks things through? And yet, this…_ He growled, sitting up and punching the pillow next to him with all his might._ This is why father will never consider me for the company. I'm unreliable. Irresponsible. Did my brothers ever feel this way? No, no. It doesn't matter. _He took a few deep breaths. _I need to calm myself down. Why can't I grasp that the company is their birth-right? But I just can't handle the fact that I'll end up working for them without having an equal chance to prove myself. I can't live without _control_ over something. Maybe I should forget about Father's company and focus on establishing my own firm._ He pushed the thought to the back of his mind._ Someday, if all else fails, I'll think about it then._ He glanced at the alarm clock next to him. Dinner didn't start for about two hours. It might be a good time to take a nap. His head would be clearer when he woke up.

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Dinner that night wasn't as plain as it usually was. Yes, the food was the same, but they had an actual conversation this time instead of the quiet eating.

Kirimi bounced out of her chair and skipped over to Kyoya. She put on that adorable pleading smile that only a small child could pull off, blue eyes all wide and sparkly. "Gl-Kyoya?" she asked, catching herself when she caught the look her older brother gave her.

He looked down at her, unfamiliar with receiving that look or from having little kids skip up to him like that in the first place. "Yes?"

"Will you read me shojo manga?" she begged. Kyoya noted that the power of _her_ puppy-dog eyes must be at least ten times that of Tamaki's. The Ootori boy glanced over at Nekozawa, who was hiding a snicker behind the sleeve of his cloak. However, since the upperclassman was not wearing his hood, all of the signs of laughter were visible on his face.

"Kirimi-chan," he started, trying to go for an easy let-down.

She sensed this. "Please?" she begged with more force. Impossibly enough, her big blue eyes got wider and even started to water a little. If there was ever a Host_ess_ Club, she'd have Tamaki's spot no problem once she grew up.

Another glance toward her brother revealed that he was trying even harder not to burst out laughing.

Kyoya gave in. "Fine."

"Yay!" she cheered, jumping up. Happily, she skipped back to her seat.

Kyoya sighed and glared at his senior. "Go ahead, Nekozawa-senpai. Laugh before you burst a lung."

At this, the elder couldn't take it anymore and broke down into the inevitable laughing fit. Kyoya wondered how this person ever managed to pull off the act he put on at school. He wagered it must be the change in environment. While he was contemplating this, Nekozawa spoke.

"I didn't actually think you'd agree," he chuckled.

Kyoya sighed. "It's the same trick Tamaki uses when he wants something and we've seen the results of that."

"Still, I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

Kyoya had absolutely no idea.

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It was noticed by most of the school, and the Host Club in particular, that Nekozawa was particularly cheerful the next morning. Well, _cheerful_ may not have been the right word, but he definitely didn't look like he was about to go around cursing people.

Most assumed it was because of the troubles the Host Club was facing.

Without Kyoya, the club had to stop doing cosplays because they didn't know how to budget their money to buy the items. Even Haruhi couldn't figure out how Kyoya did it!

Tamaki sat in his emo-corner, crying "Kyoya!"

Everyone left him alone. The truth was they were all doing the same thing inside their heads. There was still no notice from Kyoya after four days and it was becoming unsettling. The club could barely run itself without him.

Finally, Tamaki stood up with a sigh. He was about to admit something very painful. "It looks like we have no other choice. I'm going to ask Nekozawa-senpai!"

Insert collective gasps here.

"But Boss…!" Hikaru and Koaru started.

"There is no other way! Besides, he seems to be in a good mood today. Maybe we'll get lucky. Now, who's with me?!"

Crickets, apparently.

Haruhi sighed. "Tamaki-senpai, I don't think…"

"Haruhi? Thank you for volunteering!" the Host Club King exclaimed. "Let's go."

She groaned internally. Leave it to Tamaki…

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**(Superhero theme) And here come the rescue!**

**...Next chapter.**

**...Which will be the last.**

**Also, I have a poll up on my profile if anyone gives a care.**


	5. Rescue

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, there would have been an episode in which Haruhi walked into the Black Magic Club instead...now, there's an idea.**

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Nekozawa was rudely interrupted by knocking at his clubroom door.

"Who goes there?" he called in his creepiest voice, hoping to scare off anyone who might be there for some half-hearted reason.

There was a hesitation and he could have sworn he heard arguing, but the answer still came. "I-It's Tamaki and Haruhi."

Joy.

Making sure to hunch over more than usual, just to add that extra "go away" feeling, he slumped to the door, creaking it open. "What do you want, Suoh?"

Tamaki stuttered at first, but Haruhi gave him a thump on the back. That restarted him. "Y-Your help, Nekozawa-senpai."

The dark boy raised an unseen eyebrow. "With what?"

Haruhi sighed, realizing that trying to get Tamaki to talk straight was hopeless. "Kyoya-senpai has been absent for a few days and Tamaki has claimed that he's been kidnapped or something of the like. We want your help finding him."

Nekozawa wasn't sure whether to laugh or groan.

"Kyoya is very able, I'm sure he can take care of himself," he muttered, trying to close the door.

In a desperate move, Tamaki shoved his hand in the path of the door. "Please, Nekozawa-senpai!"

The upperclassman sighed heavily, but then a smirk crawled upon his lips. He _did_ tell Kyoya that he made no promises on keeping the secret if the Host Club bothered him…

Oh, this could be fun.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot perform a tracking spell from my clubroom. I can only complete it using the special tracking device at my house."

He made to slowly close the door again.

3…2…1…

"Wait!" Tamaki shouted. "Please, just help us find Kyoya. We'll do anything!"

Another smirk, but this one absolutely radiated mischief. "If you say so. I'll meet you at my place at 4. Goodbye, Suoh, Fujioka."

He closed the door.

Yes, fun indeed.

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As was promised, Tamaki waited by the Nekozawas' mansion gate. His face was nearly as pale as the owner's with fear, but he knew he had to do this. It was for Kyoya.

Beside him stood Haruhi. The rest of the club had opted out of coming. Haruhi was more or less dragged. Not to mention bribed.

Darn them and their fancy tuna.

The gate slowly opened and Tamaki had started to run out of reflex before Haruhi grabbed him by the back of the collar and pulled him forward.

"This was _your_ idea, senpai. Follow through with it."

Tamaki gulped, approaching the front door as if it were the firing squad.

"For Kyoya, for Kyoya, for Kyoya…"

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A low chuckled emanated from the darkly clothed figure standing by the window. Looks like his visitors were coming. Now to commence to step two of his plan. He glided to Kyoya's door, trying desperately to hold back the smirk. He was barely in control by the time his fist met the wood of the door.

"Yes?" Kyoya answered.

"Kyoya, would you mind meeting Kirimi and I in the foyer in about, say, two minutes?"

"…Be right there."

Nekozawa knew Kyoya only agreed because he was living under _their_ roof. With this agreement, the senior rushed down the stairs to get the front door. He creaked it open just before Tamaki knocked. Couldn't have Kyoya know there was company.

"Hello, Suoh."

He took pleasure in watching the blonde shiver. "H-Hello, Nekozawa-senpai."

"Please, come in." He opened the door wider, stepping out of the way of the beam of sunlight. His visitors took the invitation, albeit hesitantly, but were in all the same. Now he just had to stall for time until Kyoya would come down.

"So, a tracking spell, correct? For Kyoya Ootori?" the mastermind questioned.

Tamaki nodded.

"Yes, I guess Ootori has been absent for quite a while, hasn't he?"

Just a moment longer…

"We would really appreciate your help," Tamaki continued, fidgeting.

Soft footsteps sounded. Perfect timing.

"I don't believe it will be too hard to find him," Nekozawa replied, holding back sniggers.

"Nekozawa-senpai, you called?" Kyoya said, descending down the stairs as gracefully as any Host Club member.

A grin split the senior's pale face as looks of astonishment occupied those of his guests.

"Yes, could you please come down here?" When the boy was far down enough to be seen completely, Nekozawa continued. "I believe there's someone here looking for you."

"Kyoya!" Tamaki shouted, tackling his best friend in a hug before he could gather the energy to be shocked.

"Kyoya-senpai," Harahi said, stunned. Why on Earth was he _here_?

Laughing filled the air as Nekozawa found it impossible to hold it in any longer. He was only able to meet Kyoya's glare after a short minute.

"Does this make me out of character, Kyoya?" he teased, referring to the underclassman's previous remark.

"Traitor," the boy with glasses grumbled in response.

"Kyoya, why are you _here_? Why didn't you tell us where you were? We missed you so much!" Tamaki rambled.

The second year sighed. "Let's just say I needed some time away from home."

Tamaki looked at him curiously. "Why didn't you stay with me?"

"My Father would look for me at your house."

An expression of horrified comprehension lit Tamaki's face. "Oh."

"To answer your other question, not to mention the one you are about to ask, I didn't tell you because if you were calm, my Father would know that you knew where I was and I stayed at Nekozawa-senpai's because we were acquaintances in elementary."

"So…when are you coming back?" Haruhi wondered.

"Soon," he replied. "Now that you know I am here, I'll be back within the next few days."

Nekozawa disappeared without anyone noticing. He'd let them catch up.

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"You really are a traitor. You know that, right?" Kyoya asked Nekozawa that night.

"Maybe," the older boy answered, "but I couldn't stand their whining anymore."

"Then I will be packing up soon. I'll be leaving here tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Kyoya Ootori."

He shut the door behind him.

Kyoya sat down on the guest bed, massaging his temples. He would have some serious damage control to do.

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Kyoya could not sleep. No matter how hard he tried, images of the doom waiting for him at home stayed in his mind. He could be expecting more abuse. More yelling. More berating for not being good enough. His sister was the only one he could count on to show him any form of love, but even she would have to stand back by the power of his Father.

Restless, the boy stood up and snuck out his door. He was beginning to understand why Nekozawa was always on these nighttime patrols. They gave active minds something to do. Hopefully, it would be able to relax him.

Kyoya stopped short just before he turned a corner. He could hear voices. It was rude to eavesdrop, he knew, but when he heard his name being mentioned there was no stopping the insatiable force of human curiosity.

"…sending Kyoya home."

He recognized that voice as the mother's.

"There's nothing we can do about it."

The father.

"But that poor child is being abused!" the woman snapped back. "Could we not call the police or…"

"Mom," Nekozawa cut in, "Kyoya would have done that a long time ago if that's what he wanted. He knows that if he reports the abuse, there's no chance at him gaining his father's company."

"He doesn't even care about self-preservation? At all?"

"Kyoya Ootori is a man raised for business. Honestly, I don't think he knows any differently."

Kyoya's hand clenched. To talk about him as if he were an ignorant child…even if half of the things they were saying were admittedly true.

"Is it so wrong to be concerned about his well-being? He is your friend, is he not, Umehito?"

"We're old acquaintances," Nekozawa defended, "not friends."

"I did not know 'acquaintances' ran away to each other's houses when something like this happened."

"Mom, stop it!" Nekozawa ordered. "Kyoya is leaving tomorrow and nothing anyone says will stop him."

"Too bad," the father sighed. "It's a waste of talent."

Kyoya had enough. He ran away like the coward he was. It took a great amount of control not to slam the door shut behind him. His hands were shaking and he hated himself for it. Face twisted in an angry scowl, he began to throw the remainders of his belongings into his backpack.

He'd overstayed his welcome. It was time to leave.

A piece of paper was ripped from his precious ledger and he used it to write a note to Nekozawa-senpai. Then, he waited until late before escaping from the mansion, much in the same style as he had when running from his own house. He ran as fast as he could. Ran until the place was out of sight and his legs were tired and heavy. Only then did he slow down. It was time to return home.

But he was in absolutely no rush to do so.

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Nekozawa watched morbidly as the boy ran off, back down the same path he'd used to get there in the first place. After he was gone, the upperclassman entered the previously occupied guest room. The only thing left of Kyoya Ootori in that room was a note.

_Nekozawa-senpai,_

_Thank you for letting me stay here for the past few days. If there is ever a time in the future in which you need help, notify me so that I may repay you._

_Goodbye,_

_Kyoya Ootori_

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When Kyoya returned to school, the bruises on his face and neck were noticed by everyone. The Host Club regarded them with sad looks, knowing what had happened, but clamping their mouths shut so as not to irritate Kyoya. Kyoya just thanked heaven that the sleeves of his uniform were long. He didn't want any more attention directed at him for _those_ bruises, which were no longer limited to the small finger-shaped ones.

However, as Kyoya walked by a dark corner in the hall, he could have sworn he heard someone say to him, "Remember, you can always find refuge with me."

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**Finished.**

**Sorry if Nekozawa sounded a little mean. He wasn't supposed to.**

**Meh. No one cares about the poll.**


End file.
